Olivia Sparks

One. Two. Three. Four. There was a monster lurking behind her door.  Paralyzing fear crippled Olivia on the bed that when she tried to scream, all she heard was her muffled voice. Her eyes scanned the room, but it was pitch black. Soon enough, her eyes adjusted that she could make out a silhouette beside her. "MAXEEEEEN!" she screamed in her head, but an invisible force pursed her lips that not a single sound came out. Relaxing, she tried to wiggle her extremities but to no avail. She could feel her body sink on the bed.  Hopelessness. Rejection. Forlorn.  Olivia cried in her head as the invisible dark forces immobilized and consumed her in her sleep. Beside her lay Maxen, awakened by her whimpering noise. He grunted, squinting his eyes to adjust his focus. Unfamiliar with Olivia's penthouse bedroom, he swiped his hand on the bedside table but realized there's no lamp. So he quickly turned on the torchlight on his phone and saw Olivia glued and paralyzed on the bed. Her eyes were wide open and her arms were clipped to either of her sides.  "Oh shit!" he cursed. Shaking Olivia awake. He hissed when he touched her ice cold arms. "Baby, baby! Wake up!" After what felt like an eternity and a half, gasping for air, Olivia freed herself from her own nightmare, springing up from the bed. She rubbed her neck as if someone or something was choking her in her sleep. "I'm alive. I'm alive," she panted, her hand grasped Maxen's sleeve. The two exchanged sighs before Maxen stood up and went outside to grab a glass of water for Olivia. Coming back from his short trip, he passed the glass of water to her and walked towards the ensuite to turn on a light, leaving the bathroom door slightly ajar. "It's two in the morning," Maxen uttered under his breath, reading the time on his phone before throwing it back on the foot of the bed. He sat down beside her, pulling the sheets over to cover her legs. Seeing Olivia space out, Maxen gingerly rubbed her back. "Do you need more water, baby?"  His brows knitted when he saw her stuck in a dazed state. He knew she was having a tough day… or probably a tough month and he could see it in her eyes.  Sombre. Blank. Hollow.  She was tired of cleaning her head from every bird poop that fell from the sky and her psyche's on the verge of leaving her body an empty shell. Maxen knew she's not a broken girl that needed fixing but a wandering soul that needed a companion; someone who would celebrate her victories, and laugh with her in moments of defeat. He brushed the back of his finger on her cheek. Her eyes closed at the silent, warming comfort. "It's just a nightmare. I must be really tired," she trailed off, bringing her knees to her c.h.e.s.t.  Feeling that she had to let go of the weight in her c.h.e.s.t, she opened up, "I'm tired but I had to keep going, moving forward. And it's not like I had a choice to stop or even take a break because if I did, I might break down and if I do breakdown, all my hard work would be for naught." "Just so you know, I can fill-in so you could take a break." Olivia smiled at him, acknowledging his words. Taking the glass away from her, he placed it on top of the bedside table. He fluffed the pillow before helping her lie down on the bed. Spooning Olivia in his warm cocoon, Maxen posed, "Do you want to talk about your dream?" He felt her heave a long and deep sigh. She was fiddling with his fingers when she twisted and turned, looking up at him. "Same old nightmare I've been having as a child." "Wow. And you're still haunted by the same dream?" "Yep. A closed door, and someone twisting the knob four times then stops. However that's where the nightmare gets intense because that's when I started having a panic attack." Maxen rubbed the skin above his eyebrow and blurted out what's in his head, "Are you sure it's just a nightmare and not some traumatic experience? Just so you know, you still have that knife under your pillow." "Maaax," Olivia's mouth opened and closed, suddenly uncertain on the veracity of her answer. She murmured, "I remember nothing morbid happening in my life, well, except for that one incident in the airport." She snorted, pinching Maxen's chin for his absurd thought of her having a trauma of some sort. "Hmm," Maxen hummed, his mind wandered back to the file he read about Olivia, the nightmare-filled nights they shared and how she still has that pocket knife under her pillow. Everything to him adds up, but doesn't it seem like the girl in his arms was oblivious to the facts? Tightening his hold on her, he watched as Olivia lulled herself to sleep, brushing her sole on his hairy leg. And when she stopped moving, Maxen lifted his head and saw for himself that she was indeed fast asleep. Laying back down, Maxen's face mirrored the smile on Olivia's sleeping face. ... The next day, Olivia woke up to the sweet smell of burning toast, burning eggs, and burnt coffee.  Picking up Maxen's dress shirt on the floor, she put it on her as her robe. Walking outside the bedroom, she followed the trail of black smoke that led to her kitchen. "Wow," was all she could say when her line of sight landed on the messy kitchen island. Hugging Maxen from behind, she peered to his side and saw that he was boiling water in a pot.  "Anything else that you want to burn, Your Highness?" Maxen grinned. He turned to face her, lifting her by the b.u.t.t.o.c.k.s and placed her on one of the breakfast bar stools. "It's not safe for you in the kitchen. You're not wearing any pants. And I... I'm cooking instant noodles."  "Do you even eat that? I thought you're a food snob?" "Who said that? Ollie? Hey! I'm not a food snob. Your brother and I used to eat cup noodles back in college for our… hangovers." Olivia raised a brow. The way he dragged his sentence felt foreboding, but she was distracted when Maxen inhaled the scent of her hair while his hands skimmed the length of her b.a.r.e t.h.i.g.hs. "You look good in my shirt, baby."  "Oh, but I look good in everything that I wear," Olivia rebutted, playfully sticking a tongue out. Maxen nodded, agreeing with her. There is nothing s.e.xier than a confident woman like Olivia. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes raked on her body. His smile screamed excessive pride at the sight of her wearing nothing but his shirt and her knickers. As if magnetized by her lips, Maxen dipped his head, ready to claim a kiss.  However, just as their lips brushed, the elevator dinged, and out came the person Maxen was not ready to see.